


Why Can't It Be That Easy?

by JackyJango



Series: Cherik Week 2020 [2]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Angst and Feels, Charles Xavier Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Erik Lehnsherr Loves Charles Xavier, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutant Society, Protective Charles Xavier, Protective Erik Lehnsherr, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26507560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackyJango/pseuds/JackyJango
Summary: Charles is tired of the fight. He's tired of trying to mend the ever widening chasm between humans and mutants. He's tired of not being able to see Erik, and see him only as Magneto whenever he does. He's tired of nursing the constant ache in his heart that surrounds and revolves around Erik. He's just tired.Charles must have projected some of it, or Erik must have caught it anyway-- because if there's one person who can read Charles even without the telepathy, it's Erik-- he tugs on Charles' hand that's still entwined in his and says, 'Comere.'
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Series: Cherik Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1927336
Comments: 11
Kudos: 110
Collections: Cherik Week 2020





	Why Can't It Be That Easy?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Cherik Week Prompt- Day 2: "Mutant Society / Dark Charles"  
> Posted on Tumblr [here](https://jackyjango.tumblr.com/post/628559088860659712/why-cant-it-be-that-easy)!
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading it! Cheers!

The mind Charles seeks out is calm and quiet. Bright, despite the lassitude, calling out to him like a beacon in an angry storm. Charles sighs in relief. He’d expected the worst when the mutant they were fighting had riddled Erik's body with venomous spikes, the neurotoxin fading Erik's consciousness to a mere flicker. Then again, one could only expect the worst when it came to Erik.

Charles wheels himself along the linoleum floor meticulously. With the polished surface providing less traction, maneuvering his chair is a tedious task. The smell of disinfectant stings his nostrils, and the sea of clinical white clouds his eyes. At least, this is an actual hospital, with certified doctors and functional equipment, unlike last time, which had been more of an enclosed junkyard than the garage of a junkie healer. 

‘May I help you, Sir?’ a young woman in white scrubs asks him.  _ Claire,  _ going by the name on her tag. The girl is a mutant. And so are all the people Charles has come across so far. Azazel had chosen well.

‘Yes, thank you, my dear. I’m here for Mr. Eisenhardt. Which room is he in?’ To the Brotherhood, it’s a pseudonym Erik used as a social disguise. Oh, how little they knew him.

The girl pulls up a clipboard from her desk and inspects it. ‘And how are you related to him?’

‘Oh, I’m an old friend,’ Charles answers with a tight smile. 

‘I’m sorry, Sir. Only family members are allowed to visit while he's in the ICU. You can visit him when he’s shifted to the recovery wing,’ she says with an impersonal smile.

Charles sighs. As much as he had expected it, he was hoping it wouldn't come to this. Bringing two fingers to his temple, he takes over the girl’s mind. He rummages through her memory to gather Erik’s condition, for Charles is sure that he wouldn’t get an honest answer from Erik. The neurotoxin has been washed out of Erik’s system, but the lingering effects have left his body winded. Though there are no permanent damages, a week's rest is recommended. A gush of air leaves Charles’ lungs in relief. 

‘I’m sorry, my dear,’ Charles says to the girl, wiping her mind of his memory. ‘You may not understand it, but I’m the only family he has.’

Erik's looking up at him blearily from his bed when Charles enters the ICU. A labyrinth of wires and cords run along Erik's left flank and heart and a barrage of monitoring machines hum quietly behind him. The punctures on Erik's torso where the spokes had broken skin have been cleaned and bandaged. And only now in the absence of Erik's combat suit does Charles realise just how many there had been sticking out of his body. 

They had been lucky this time that both the X-Men and the Brotherhood had been fighting on the same side. They had been lucky that Charles had been right there to shut down the mutant who had spewed poisonous darts at Erik. Charles had been right there to order Azazel to teleport Erik to a hospital that instant. 

Charles had been beside Erik  _ this  _ time. What about the next time when something like this repeats, when he won't be able to make sure Erik's okay? What about the times after that? Just the thought sends shivers down Charles' spine.

If Charles were a stronger man, he would have felt guilty for shutting down a man-- no, a mutant-- without as much as a thought. Just like he would have felt any form of remorse for manipulating the minds and memories recklessly of all the people he'd stumbled upon in a haste to get to Erik. Maybe he would have, ten years ago, when his morals and ideals took precedence over all else; when they were all that mattered. But not now, not when his heart and mind are drained from years of fighting, years of going to sleep feeling cold and lonely and waking up to an empty bed. Not when Erik is looking up at him like this. Not when Erik's still  _ alive _ . 

Slowly, Charles wheels himself to Erik's side, and cards a hand through Erik's short crop. There are dark circles under his eyes, and the wrinkles etching his face have increased tenfold. He looks more worn than Charles himself. Not for the first time he wonders whether Erik's been eating properly and sleeping well; whether Erik's been taking care of himself at all. 

'How are you feeling, love?' Charles asks, taking Erik's hand.

Erik grunts in reply. 

Maybe it's because he hasn't slept in two days, or maybe because he hasn't eaten in the last twenty hours, or maybe it's just witnessing Erik collapse right in front of him; Charles doesn't know, but he can't hold back the tears that sting his eyes.

He leans forward to stroke Erik's hair and kiss his forehead. 'I'm so tired, Erik,' Charles says against Erik's clammy skin. The moisture that had been pricking his eyes flows freely down his cheeks when he closes his eyes. 

He's tired of the fight. He's tired of trying to mend the ever widening chasm between humans and mutants. He's tired of not being able to see Erik, and see him only as Magneto whenever he does. He's tired of nursing the constant ache in his heart that surrounds and revolves around Erik. He's just tired.

Charles must have projected some of it, or Erik must have caught it anyway-- because if there's one person who can read Charles even without the telepathy, it's Erik-- he tugs on Charles' hand that's still entwined in his and says, 'Comere.'

For a moment Charles doesn't know what Erik means, but then, Erik lowers the metal guard lining the large bed and shifts a little to his left, creating space for Charles.

It's probably a bad idea, anyone could walk in at any moment, or Charles could inevitably hurt Erik without meaning to, but Charles doesn't care, not when the need to be near Erik and reassure himself that Erik's alive is coursing through his veins. Charles shifts from his chair on to the bed and lies down, tucking himself against Erik's side and pillowing his head on Erik's outstretched arm.

'Thank you,' Erik says against Charles' hairline. His voice is hoarse and rough, like glass shredded on metal. 'For saving my life-' he pauses to huff out a warm breath against Charles' forehead. 'Again.' Charles can feel the smirk in Erik's voice when he says, 'I don't know how to repay you.'

They're beyond that point in their relationship. God only knows how many times they've come close to losing or saving each other. How many times they've made love and owed each more than just their own hearts. Still, Charles hopes. 

Charles drapes an arm over Erik’s chest and draws a fingertip gently over a patch of bandage placed over a puncture that’s dangerously close to the heart. He nestles his nose further into Erik’s neck and says, 'A small house far away from all of this. Hopefully with a wooden fence enclosing a flower bed. Better if it comes with a small kitchen garden. A small bedroom that looks over a pond or a lake, with a cosy bed at the centre where we’ll sleep every night and grow old.’ Charles cranes his neck to look Erik in the eye. ‘A small home nestled in a hill valley or by the ocean.' He shrugs. 'I'm not picky. As long as it's with you, I don't care. I want you, Erik. I want a life with you. A home..’ Charles’ voice trembles and wobbles as he trails off.

Erik looks at Charles for a long moment, his hazy eyes unwavering. Due to the drugs in his system or his lack of his self-restraint, Erik bends down to kiss the freckles on the bridge of Charles' nose gently, and whispers, 'One day,  _ schatz _ . One day.'

'I'll hold you on to that promise.'

When Erik looks at him as though to say  _ I'd expect nothing less from you _ , Charles exhales heavily and buries his head once again in the crook of Erik's neck and closes his eyes.

'Sleep now,' Erik says into his hair, breath heavy and warm, 'you look like you need it. Nobody will disturb us here.'

Charles hums in reply and closes his eyes, rubbing a soothing hand over Erik’s heart. He won't  _ let  _ anyone disturb them, not when Erik is breathing and warm and alive next to him. 

-

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Also on Tumblr as [JackyJango](https://jackyjango.tumblr.com)!


End file.
